Under His Protection

Chapter 17: The Final Countdown

The docks were eerily silent, the only sound the faint lapping of water against the pier and the distant hum of cargo ships. The night was dark, heavy with tension, and Travis could feel the weight of it pressing down on him as he and Taylor moved swiftly through the maze of shipping containers. Every corner they turned felt like another step closer to the end.

His hand gripped hers tightly, unwilling to let go, even as his mind raced with thoughts of Santino's bombs and the deadly consequences if they didn't stop him. He kept glancing at Taylor, his protective instincts screaming at him to get her out of there. But the fire in her eyes told him she wasn't going anywhere.

"Stay close," he murmured, his voice low but urgent.

"I'm not leaving," she replied, her tone steady and firm.

They reached a small clearing near the water where Patrick and Ross were waiting. Their faces were grim, but their eyes sharpened when they saw Taylor at Travis's side.

"What the hell is she doing here?" Ross asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"She's staying," Travis said flatly, leaving no room for argument. "Now, where are we on the bombs?"

Patrick pulled out a small map, showing the layout of the docks. "We've disarmed two. But there's one more, and it's the big one. If it goes off, it'll take half the docks with it, along with a lot of our men."

Travis's jaw clenched. "Where?"

Ross pointed to a cluster of warehouses near the water's edge. "Right here. It's rigged to a shipment Santino is moving out tonight. We've got a few minutes—if that—to stop it before his men set it off."

Travis nodded, his mind already calculating their next move. Time was slipping through their fingers, but they had one last chance to turn this around.

Patrick looked at him, his expression dark. "We need to split up. Ross and I can take one side, get the men in position. You and Taylor hit the other. We'll meet in the middle and take down anyone who tries to light that fuse."

Travis's heart tightened at the thought of bringing Taylor into the most dangerous part of the mission, but he knew she wouldn't back down. She was in this now, just as much as he was.

"Fine," he said. "Let's move."

They slipped through the shadows, moving in perfect synchronization. Travis kept his gun at the ready, his senses on high alert as they approached the final warehouse. He could hear the distant murmur of voices, the low rumble of trucks being loaded with Santino's shipment.

Taylor stayed close, her breathing steady but her nerves palpable. She wasn't used to this world of violence, but she wasn't afraid. Travis could see the determination in her eyes, and it made something inside him ache with both pride and fear.

As they neared the warehouse, Travis signaled for her to stay low, pressing himself against the side of a container. He peeked around the corner, spotting Santino's men gathered near the entrance, guarding the shipment.

"They're right inside," he whispered to Taylor. "We take them out quietly. We can't risk setting off the bomb."

Taylor nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. She could see the tension in Travis's jaw, the way his muscles tensed as he prepared to move. This was life or death, and she wasn't about to let fear control her.

With a silent nod from Travis, they moved forward, slipping through the darkness like shadows. Travis took down the first guard with a swift blow to the back of the head, while Taylor stayed close, watching his every move. Another guard turned the corner, and before he could shout an alarm, Travis had him pinned to the ground, knocking him unconscious.

They crept closer to the warehouse entrance, the faint glow of lights spilling out into the night. Travis glanced at Taylor, his eyes intense, communicating everything he couldn't say in words: Stay behind me. Be ready for anything.

Taylor nodded, gripping the small knife Travis had handed her earlier. She wasn't a fighter, but she wasn't helpless either.

They slipped inside, the cold steel of the warehouse surrounding them. The air was thick with the smell of oil and saltwater, the distant sounds of footsteps and machinery echoing in the vast space. In the center of the room, Santino's men were working quickly to load crates onto trucks, while others stood guard, guns slung over their shoulders.

But it wasn't the shipment that caught Travis's attention. It was the bomb.

There, nestled beneath the largest crate, was a crude but deadly device. The red light blinked ominously, the timer already counting down.

"We've got less than ten minutes," Travis muttered, his eyes narrowing.

Taylor swallowed hard, her pulse racing as she looked at the bomb. "Can you disarm it?"

Travis's expression was grim. "I can try."

But before they could move, a voice cut through the tension.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Travis Kelce himself."

Travis froze, turning to see Santino standing on the opposite side of the warehouse, flanked by two of his men. His smile was cold, his eyes gleaming with malice.

"Thought you could stop me, huh?" Santino sneered. "You're too late. That bomb's going off whether you like it or not."

Travis's blood boiled as he stepped forward, putting himself between Taylor and Santino. "Not if I have anything to say about it."

Santino's smile widened. "You always were arrogant. But this time, you're not walking away."

Travis's grip on his gun tightened, but before he could make a move, the sound of footsteps echoed through the warehouse. Patrick and Ross appeared from the shadows, their guns drawn and aimed directly at Santino.

"You might want to rethink that," Patrick said coldly.

Santino's eyes flicked to the two men, but he didn't seem phased. "Oh, I've rethought everything. That's why I've already planned my escape." He gestured toward the trucks, where crates were being loaded. "You see, Kelce, I'm always one step ahead."

Travis's mind raced. The bomb, the shipment, the trucks—it was all part of Santino's twisted plan. And if they didn't stop him now, everything would go up in flames.

"You're not getting away," Travis growled, stepping forward. "Not this time."

Santino's smile faltered for the first time, but he quickly recovered, backing up toward the trucks. "We'll see about that."

Without another word, Santino turned and bolted for the door, his men following close behind.

"Go after him!" Travis shouted to Patrick and Ross. "I'll handle the bomb."

Patrick nodded, and the two of them took off, chasing Santino through the maze of containers outside.

Travis turned to Taylor, his expression serious. "Stay here. I need to focus."

Taylor nodded, stepping back as Travis knelt by the bomb. His hands moved with precision, his mind racing as he tried to disarm the device. The timer ticked down relentlessly, each second feeling like a lifetime.

"Come on, come on," Travis muttered under his breath, his fingers working the wires.

Taylor stood nearby, her heart in her throat as she watched him. The tension in the room was suffocating, every second bringing them closer to the brink of disaster.

Finally, with a soft click, Travis disconnected the last wire. The timer stopped at 00:02.

He exhaled a long breath, standing up and turning to Taylor. "It's done."

Taylor rushed to him, her arms wrapping around his neck as relief washed over her. "You did it."

Travis held her close, his heart still pounding from the intensity of the moment. "We did it. But it's not over yet."

As they stepped outside, the sounds of gunfire echoed in the distance. Santino was still out there, and Travis knew they had to finish this once and for all.

Together.